


Last Request

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8065225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Trip visits Vulcan. Spoilers, 1.01-1.02 "Broken Bow," 1.05 "Unexpected," 1.08 "Breaking The Ice." (08/10/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: A companion piece to "Last Will and Testament."  


* * *

Commodore Charles Bartholemew Tucker III ("Trip" to his friends) stepped from the shuttle into the kind of heat that he swore he'd avoid for the rest of his life.

It must have been 75 degrees Celsius. thought Tucker, as he played with the conversion to a measurement system that hadn't been used in a hundred years (his method of combating stress...). It didn't help. Memories flooded into his mind...

* * *

The first time he'd seen T'Pol, she'd been glaring at him, or so it seemed. He soon learned that _that_ was her normal, neutral expressionâ€”as opposed to her more emotional states, which were usually indicated by one raised eyebrow or the other. He'd never quite figured out which raised brow meant whatâ€”he suspected she deliberately varied her pattern to keep him on his toes.

His first opportunity to converse with her, had come shortly into the Enterprise's mission to return the Klingon, Klaang, to Quo'onos, the Klingon homeworld. He and T'Pol had joined the Captain at his private table for dinner.

He'd learned two important things about her at that dinner. Vulcans do _not_ touch their food with their fingers, and T'Pol had a very dry sense of humor  
(so dry that he suspected Jon had missed it entirely...).

* * *

The journey from Tucker's office at Starfleet Headquarters, to Vulcan, had taken only two daysâ€”the new Warp Six engines were a testament to his skill as one of Starfleet's finest developers of warp technology.

Unfortunately, even the purring of the new engines, which no one but he and Hoshi (and _some_ Vulcans) could hear, failed to sooth him. He was _not_ looking forward to fulfilling his final duty on Vulcan.

* * *

He remembered the day he, T'Pol, and a small team had shuttled to the surface of their first Earth-like planet. There were no lifesigns detected, but the planet seemed like a veritable Garden of Eden.

Then the storm had come up and things had gone to Hell in the proverbial handbasket.

Before long, undetected psychotropics had turned the team into a bunch of paranoid lunatics. Eventually, even T'Pol began to move towards the deep end.

Fortunately, she was able to hang on long enough to prevent the team members from killing each otherâ€”though she'd had to stun him with her phase pistol to do so.

Oddly enough, though he remembered every moment of his delusional state, the thing he remembered most clearly, was her comment on the Captain's taking of many photos.

That was the first time that he thought he might actually get to like her -Vulcan or not.

* * *

As Tucker stood on in shuttlebay, lost in thought, he failed to notice a short, formally attired Vulcan woman approach.

"Thee art Commodore Tucker?"

He looked down to see the woman, who bore a strong resemblance to T'Pol.

 

"I am."

"I am T'Pau. Live long and prosper, Commodore Tucker."

"Prosperity and long life, T'Pau," he replied wishing he'd known the title that her robes suggested would be hers.

"Thee hast come to speak with me."

"Yes, ma'am, and such members of your family as still reside in the family home," replied Tucker, feeling as though he was six years old and standing before the principal after a rowdy incident at recess.

* * *

The first inkling that he had, that she might actually feel anything for him, had come when he had found out he was pregnant.

T'Pol's comments had been especially emotionalâ€”jealous, even. It had been  
something of a revelationâ€”especially since her usual reaction to him was to become even more logical, more _Vulcan_ , as if she might be trying to show him,  
through her example, how things _should_ be done.

After that, he'd undertaken a program of teasing, testing and cultural exchange, to try to figure out what was going on with her.

When it was discovered that she had been receiving confidential messages from a Vulcan ship, he had been the one to read one of her letters. The thought had been that she might be reporting on the crew's flaws to Vulcan High Command, but such was not the case.

Even now, Tucker felt embarrassed and guilty about the violation of T'Pol's privacyâ€”even though she had long since forgiven him.

Indeed, thought she hadn't expressly said the words, her asking him for advice had clearly been a kind of tacit forgiveness. Her later admission that he been her first and only choice for said advice, was given along with the words, so he knew she had considered the matter closed.

* * *

Tucker looked at the formally garbed T'Pau, as their shuttle carried them to T'Pol's family's home. The scenery was exactly the kind that he wished he had never seen again: long expanses of sand, rising and falling in dunes; occasional scraps of vegetationâ€”some even approaching actual trees and bushes; a large, hot sun directly overhead.

 

Out of consideration for its human passenger, the shuttle's temperature was a much cooler 70 degrees , Celsius. T'Pau had pulled her robes a little more  
tightly around herself.

* * *

The pecan pie had sealed their fates. Somehow, from the moment he introduced her to his "perfect comfort food", they had been a couple.

It had taken awhile before they consummated their relationship, but from that moment, they were a unit.

Somehow, either they had managed to keep their relationship a secret, or more likely, the crew had gone of their way to not let on that they knew. Either way, the remainder of the Enterprise's first five-year mission had been wonderfulâ€”or at least as wonderful as the exploration of unknown worlds could be...

* * *

Tucker and T'Pau had arrived at her family home, in the middle of a scarlet desert, within an hour of his stepping out of the Starfleet shuttle. They hadn't  
spoken three words between them, during the entire time.

The "family home" was, more properly, a mansionâ€”but a mansion unlike anything Tucker had ever seen before. It was a two-storey building that looked like a plain boxâ€”no particular color, doors and windows that were parallelograms, rather than the strictly rectangular doors used by most sentient species (the only non-functional design in the entire building). It could have covered half an acre, but without any other buildings nearby to give perspective, it seemed like a small box in the middle of a giant sandbox.

"Thee art welcome. Please, enter," said T'Pau.

"I would be honored," replied Tucker, as he swept his arm in the universal "after you" gesture. He followed T'Pau into the building.

In the plain foyer, he noticed an alcove with a bust of Surak on display -otherwise, outside of a closet for hanging outerwear and a shelf for footwear, it was featureless.

Tucker followed T'Pau down a hallway, and into a courtyard at the center of the building.

"Thee shalt abide here," proclaimed T'Pau. Then she turned back into the building.

Five minutes later, she returned with an elderly couple.

"Mother, Fatherâ€”I present Commodore Charles Tucker III.

"Commodore Tucker, our parentsâ€”Suvak, and T'Prind," she said.

"Live long and prosper," intoned Suvak, whose voice was still young and strong.

"Prosperity and long life," returned Tucker.

"Thee art welcome in our home," added T'Prind. "Come, we shall dine together."

Tucker bowed slightly, as the three Vulcans swept majestically into a hall on the other sight of the small courtyard, then followed behind.

* * *

T'Pol sat in the Vulcan equivalent of the lotus position, on a small gray mat. She was breathing in the manner which Tucker had learned was essential to entering a properly meditative state.

He sat on a small brown mat beside hers. His posture was identical, and his  
breathing soon fell into the same pattern.

After a seemingly timeless period, T'Pol's breathing changed. Tucker followed along, and in a few minutes they were done.

"Y'know, darlin', I can't get over how good meditation makes me feel."

"It is not about 'feeling good', Trip," responded T'Pol. "It is about renewal of spiritual purpose and focus." The corner of her mouth quirked slightly, indicating that she was teasing him.

"Being able to renew my spiritual purpose and focus always makes me feel good," he replied with a chuckle. "Now, shall we continue my introduction to formal Vulcan etiquette?"

"Certainly." Her mouth returned to its neutral position.

"Then let's get on with it, m'dear," said Tucker, with a cheerful grin.

"As you know, when meeting anyone for any occasion, each wishes the other long life and prosperity, with the raised right hand and the fingers spread thusly," she said, forming the Vulcan salutation.

"The only difference, in formal situations, is the pause between greetings -  
which is slightly longer. Following the greeting, there is no substantial conversation until after the formal sharing of a meal. Before the meal is served, there may be polite conversation on the order of "How was your journey?", or something of the sortâ€”the only time that Vulcans engage in what you refer to as 'small talk.'

"When the meal is served, there will be three to five courses. The minimum will be an appetizer, usually a cold soup or broth; an entree of some substantial vegetable dish, and a palate cleanser that would be the equivalent of your 'dessert'.

"The meal will be accompanied by a beverage, usually served at room temperature, and usually from a moderately sweet fruit. Water accompanies the dessert and another glass of juice follows."

"Then do we come to the substantial conversation?" inquired Tucker.

"No. There is a period of ten to fifteen minutes spent in meditationâ€”not long enough to really achieve any real renewalâ€”just enough to complement the effects of the meal.

"Then we may discuss matters of importance."

"Is there a specific form?" asked Tucker.

"For births, rites of passage and deaths, there will have been formal announcements sent out. Discussion on these topics may be approached directly."

* * *

T'Pol had gone on to describe other formal situations and the forms of conversation appropriate to each. Tucker wished, with all his heart, that he could have been about to discuss anything else.

The meal itself, was simple: a plomeek soup that was better than any he had  
tried; a salad that was similar to the stir-fry he had Chef make for T'Pol, the night they had taken the final step to cement their relationship; a 'dessert' composed of a variety of fruits, sliced and served in their own juices. The beverage that accompanied the meal was vleme, a drink that Trip had, again, featured during that most important of dinnersâ€”his hosts had been somewhat surprised when he complimented them on its quality (he doubted if anyone else he knew would have noticed...). In honor of his visit, the post-meal beverage was orange juice imported from Floridaâ€”at some expense.

Following the meal, Tucker again surprised his hosts by joining them in the post-meal mediationâ€”not by joining them so much, as by actually meditating.

After almost twenty minutes, Suvak uncoiled from his meditation mat with the grace of a cat, followed immediately by T'Prind and T'Pau. Tucker waited a few extra seconds before rising to see an unexpected respect in three pairs of Vulcan eyes.

To this point, there might have fifty words exchanged, and Tucker knew that there probably wouldn't be more than another fifty before he had fulfilled his mission.

"If thee wilt follow?" The phrase was uttered as a question, but Tucker knew it was more of a statement.

"I will," he replied.

Again, the three Vulcans swept into the hallway and led him to another roomâ€”this one empty except for a table of a magnificent dark wood that Tucker thought looked an awful lot like teak. Four chairs, of the same wood, were neatly centered on each side of it.

Suvak and Tucker remained standing as first T'Prind and then T'Pau moved to the table and sat. Then they moved to the vacant chairs.

With a barely perceptible nod, Tucker indicated that Suvak should sit first and then, immediately after, sat himself.

The conversation was as brief as Tucker had expected, and the result was precisely as he had expected: the three Vulcans were literally nonplussed. For a brief moment, emotions flickered behind their eyes and Tucker knew that they had experienced a profound lossâ€”one that even T'Pau, a Kolihnar acolyte was not yet prepared to deal with.

As the official bearer of the news, and carrier of T'Pol's final message to her family, Tucker rose, wished his hosts prosperity and long life, and bowed deeply before stepping from the room.

Several minutes later, T'Pol's family joined him in the hall. Silently they led him back to their home's entrance.

Again, they stood silently for a few moments.

Finally, T'Pau (the last person Tucker would have expected, based on his brief encounter with them) spoke to him.

"Thee hast honored the memory of my sister, Commodore Tucker. She chose her friends well."

"Likewise have you honored her with your remarks today," he replied, with a minimal bow.

"We are in your debt, Commodore," added Suvak, after glancing at his wife. "Live long and prosper."

"There is no debt, sir. The honor is mine. Prosperity and long life."

Both men bowed deeply, and T'Pau led Tucker back outside. An hour later, he stood in the shuttlebay. T'Pau had not spoken during the trip, but as she escorted him to his shuttle, she put a hand on his shoulderâ€”an egregious breach of Vulcan etiquetteâ€”and he stopped in his tracks.

"From your comportment here today," she said in informal language, further amazing him, "I can only conclude that you were aware of T'Pol's katra and knew it to irretrievably lost."

"I was, T'Pau, and I am so sorry."

"Few Vulcans would have behaved as well, and as correctly, in such extreme circumstances. When my father said we were in your debt, he was not uttering a formality.

"Regardless of your thoughts on the situation, there is no way that we can ever repay your courtesy, or your..." and she stumbled over the word "...kindness."

Tucker looked at her with what he hoped was a correctly impassive expression, but his heart lurched within him. For that split second, T'Pau had looked so much T'Pol in one of her vulnerable moments, that he felt like weeping.

"I could do no less. T'Pol deserved no less. Your family deserved no less."

T'Pau bowed as deeply as had her father, and then they walked the last few yards to Tucker's departure point.

"Live long and prosper, Commodore Charles Bartholomew Tucker III," she said, and he knew that, without a doubt, she really meant itâ€”with every fiber of her being.

"Prosperity and long life, T'Pau," he repliedâ€”meaning it no less.

Then she was gone.

* * *

Once again aboard the Enterprise on his return to Earth, Tucker sat watching  
the white streaks outside his stateroom's viewport. He could not get T'Pol's final words out of his mind.

* * *

T'Pol lay quietly, on the diagnostic table, as Doctor Phlox, now in charge of Starfleet Medical, fussed with various settings.

Tucker sat beside her, holding her hand through a molecule-thin quarantine field. He could feel her body's warmth and, he hoped, she could feel his.

The virus that was eating her alive, had already taken much of the substance  
of her body. Where she had been a solidly constructed woman, she was now little more a series of sticks held together with twine.

He had been there for three solid days, holding her hand and watching teams of Starfleet Medical's finest minds working feverishly to figure out a way to stop the microscopic menace that was ravaging T'Pol's body.

Finally, they had realized that they were not going to be able to save her, and Phlox had quietly closed that section of the medlab to everyone but Tucker. He seemed amazed that her strength was such that she still had _any_ brain function.

Then, after seventy-eight hours of sitting, Tucker realized that T'Pol had opened her eyes. He was saddened to see that only her eyes seemed unaffected by the viral intruder that was taking her life.

"Hi, darlin'," he whispered, blinking back tears. "How ya doin'?"

A corner of her mouth rose slightly, and one brow arched so slightly that he  
almost missed it.

"I am dying, Trip. Other than that, I am fine."

Tucker barked a small laugh as his tears finally squeezed past his blinking lids. he thought. 

He knew that she would never believe protestations to the contrary, and that she would not respect any attempt to persuade her otherwise. She knew her mind and body too well for that. So, he sat quietly and gently squeezed her hand.

"We have business to discuss, dear one," she whispered.

They talked about her will and related business. Then, with what strength she had left, T'Pol squeezed his hand.

"I have one final request. I could ask no one but you."

"Anything, T'Pol," replied Tucker, "you know that."

"It will be difficult. You have never faced such a challenge before, my love,">

"Name it. As I love you, I will fulfill it."

For a moment, her eyes closed and her breathing slowed. Tucker's heart lodged in his throat.

Then, she re-opened her eyes, and gathering the last of her strength, spoke once more.

"I request that you go to Vulcan.

"Tell my parents, and my sister, that I forgive them and that I love them."


End file.
